10 years of yoga, a beginner's mind

This past week, I turned 36. As a natural point of reflection, I thought back on previous birthdays and how my life has changed. The yoga studio where I fell in love with yoga, and where I did my teacher training, sent me an automated "happy birthday" message. While it was clearly a feature they set up to send to all members on their birthdays, on a nostalgic whim I wrote back sharing that I often thought of the teachers I missed so much there and that I was launching my own yoga business here on the West Coast. To my surprise, I got an email back from a girl I didn't know still worked there, and we had a nice exchange. If I had brushed that email off as impersonal, I wouldn't have ended up having that personal reconnection.

Ten years ago, I moved across Canada and started a new life in Ontario. I had a new job, but no friends or family and no routine. The local studio on Bank Street, Pure Yoga, was a perfect pit stop on the way to my new place of work. I started going to their 6:30 AM classes, some of which were taught by a wonderful Ashtanga teacher and some were Vinyasa. I didn't know what I was doing, but I knew that each day I went to yoga before work, I felt amazing - energized, yet calm. Capable. My body struggled at first with some of the poses - and I mostly looked around to copy what everyone else was doing - but that didn't matter.

In the months and years that followed, I faced a lot of personal, social, and professional challenges. But yoga was always there, in times of desperation, in times of loneliness, in times when I didn't know what to do with myself, I would go to the studio. It didn't solve all my problems, but its rhythm in my life was like a heartbeat. Steady, reliable, and comforting in its own right.

My yoga practice has changed a lot over the years and I know it will continue to change with each season of my life. My body used to fly in bird of paradise with relative ease. In contrast, the first time I attended a yin class, I literally became so uncomfortable in stillness that I got up and left after 2 minutes. Now, yin is one of my favorite things to teach and practice. I have reveled in the energetic and athletic power classes, the flowing and almost dance-like vinyasa, and the deep stillness of yin. I have enjoyed moving through asana to loud music, traditional chants, and silence. I love that there are so many ways to practice.

It can become easy to be attached, especially as a yoga teacher, to our yoga practice and our bodies looking a certain way. I don't have as much flexibility as I used to, I can't hold a full king pigeon pose, and ever since having my daughter my body is just... different. The temptation to shame myself or restrict my diet, push my joints back to where they used to be so I could look like the yoga teachers who populate my Instagram feed, is very real. But I catch myself. I don't want a relationship with my body that is built on shame and emulating others. I want to appreciate what my body is capable of. Movement and yoga is a celebration of my body, in its current form. Practicing yoga should help me to realize when my ego is driving my decisions.

So I return to my mat, with stiff joints, and a size or two larger than I used to be, and practice anyways. Because this is where my body is now, and it deserves my respect and care. That is why I practice - for my body and my mind. To return to that feeling that made me fall in love with yoga in the first place. That is what it means to have a beginner's mindset. To approach your practice with curiosity, joy, and humility.

If you're hesitant to start exploring yoga, this is your sign: try it. Like me, you may not like it the first time you give it a go (that's another story) but there is so much that it can bring to your life.

In the spirit of giving back on my birthday, I have made several prerecorded classes free on my virtual classes page. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

Love,

Britt